September

Those crisp September days are beginning--when the morning breezes buffet the steam coming from your tea and threaten to cool down your breakfast too quickly. It's that first autumnal awakening, when my senses are aroused, my feelings stirred, my memories and thoughts come more clearly, falling into patterns that I can touch and express.

Poetry returns to my soul with the first cold rainstorms, sweatshirt weather, and the honking of geese. And I welcome it with open arms, drifting into consciousness in the morning with a waft of missing my parents--the strong, caring lines of my dad's face, his glasses and hard work... The thoughtful, busy mind, and smiling enthusiasm of my mother...

The beloved faces I know, places I've been and loved... I miss the west coast and my friends and family there, the scenery, the cities, the rain. I miss traveling, and flying, and airports. 

I love airports, I might just drive to one and sit.

I just feel more this time of year. Isn't that odd? I love it. I love that depth, the added texture to my life. I can write more, think more, express more. I hear more in the tone of the air around me, leaves swishing underfoot. I enter into the mood and remember beloved books--Lorna, Jane Eyre, Wimsey, Sherlock. And I settle in comfortably for autumn to come on.

I'm ready.

morning muses and fresh loose-leaf tea in my new umbrella-infuser
that came in an anonymous package...

radio tunes... Siri, what song is this? 

after work cozy clothes